


Lest You Forget

by vuas



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Breeding Kink, Comeplay, D U B C O N BABY READ THE TAGS, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, EXTREMELY DUBIOUS CONSENT THIS TIME IN ALL CAPS, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Kylo Ren is Not Nice, Mentions of Pregnancy, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Sex Toys, Unsafe Sex, Verbal Humiliation, Very Unsafe Sex, no beta we die like men, please go somewhere else if you need sex Ed tips this is Not It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-05-16 23:48:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27744934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vuas/pseuds/vuas
Summary: He smiles, like she’s finally figured out some incomprehensible game they’ve been playing, as if she’s walked into the easiest, sharpest trap he’s ever set. “Then beg, Rey. Beg me to pull out if you want it so bad.”
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 75
Kudos: 673





	Lest You Forget

**Author's Note:**

> Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh I don’t wanna talk about it

She’s not very good at remembering to take her pill. 

The alarms, the reminders, the note in her calendar—none of it works. Sometimes she accidentally leaves the blister pack at home, other times at work. When she’d finally gotten the hang of taking it in the morning, it made her nauseous until noon—and when she’d decided to take it before bed, she was always nodding off on the couch, forgetting to take it at all. It was bad timing. Little errors. Only herself to blame.

What’s worse, Rey never remembers to put the sticker on; the neat label that tells you what day you started. A false Wednesday stares back at her now, but she’s pretty sure she took it. Accompanied by a coke at lunch, covertly popping the small blue pill on her tongue so her coworkers were none the wiser.

In the end, It’s not a big deal to miss a day. Or two, she’s pretty sure. 

Mostly sure.

* * *

He’s _ guy from bar _for about a month in her phone—she doesn’t have time for a boyfriend, but he fucks hard and fast and rubs her back for a bit before he leaves, which is close enough. He doesn’t bring her flowers or chocolates and she doesn’t ask about his family. They only meet when it’s dark out. 

Ben is a little too mean when he has sex: the sort that makes you wonder if you enjoyed it or if you just happened to have an orgasm in the wreckage. His finger bruise, his teeth nip, and when her cries turn nervous and urgent and overwhelmed, they’re lost on deaf ears. All of it screams _ red flag, _which is precisely why they’re just fucking and not dating. 

However, he _can_ make her come—in fact, he’d made a meticulous study of it—which is more than she can say for the other scattered numbers saved in her phone.

So she keeps him around, even if his eyes are dark enough to swallow her whole.

* * *

_ What are you doing tonight? _

Rey rolls her neck, laptop screen blurring under fatigued eyes. She’d been expecting his text—always on Friday afternoon, a polite little inquiry. As if he was asking about the weather rather than permission to fuck her until she cried. 

_ Can’t. _

They haven’t been using condoms, lately. It makes her cringe to admit; but to be fair, it _ does _feel better. Skin against skin. The slide impeccably smooth. It makes her come faster, and if she can’t have that, then what’s all this been about? Both of them have immaculate STI tests to prove some sense of responsibility. Besides, Ben isn’t fucking anyone else. He spends his free evenings at her apartment—works at some lobbying office downtown, hellish hours that a girlfriend wouldn’t tolerate. His phone constantly buzzes with emails when they’re together. Once he grumbled something about killing his boss.

_ Shouldn’t, I mean, _ she types as an afterthought. _ Forgot my pill. _

Rey doesn’t know why she said that. Maybe to assuage any fears he might have about a loss of interest on her part. It must work: his response is quick.

_ I’ll bring you a plan b. _

She snorts, noting an underlying tone of desperation. _ Long day or something? _

_ Yeah, and I’d like to take it out on you. Wear that plug. The big one. _

* * *

The first time she lets him slide home without a condom is memorable: a raw fuck as a reward. She’s been (sort-of) diligent with her pills. He’s been diligent with her orgasms. She stumbled through the suggestion, nervously picking at her sweater, but Ben perked with an intensity to his face she’s never seen before.

When they’re undressed, he presses her into the mattress with a grunt, folding her up until her ankles are somewhere at her ears. Her pussy parts sweetly, almost demure as he splits her open. The first thing she notices is It’s so much _ warmer _ without the thin layer of latex. The second thing is that Ben is a man possessed: he pins her down, the movement of his hips only able to be described as _ natural— _the way he thrusts smooth and deep, until she’s filled all the way up, speared by his cock.

In the end, thick, hot semen drips down his shaft when he pulls out—he makes an offended grumble, quickly scooping it up with his fingers and pushing it back inside her used cunt, deep enough to make her squeak. It’s strange; in two minutes she’s going to flush it down the toilet, why bother?

It’s strange, because when she returns from the bathroom, his eyes are so depthless they scrape.

* * *

Usually, they beat around the bush. Circling a bit with absent conversation or a shared beer before moving to the bedroom. It’s not that she doesn’t like Ben, but it just doesn’t need to be complicated, this thing they’re doing. In fact, the steady, predictable flow of surface-level pleasantries is something she actually looks forward to. _ Hi, how was your week, did you see the news, yeah I thought this new takeout was good, you should try it. _It’s low stakes. Perfect. 

A bit confusing, then, when Ben shoves her up against the closed door the moment it clicks shut and kisses her like—he _ missed _ her.

“Ben,” she murmurs against his mouth, hands struggling to corral him in. They don’t kiss. Often. Not that she hates it—but there’s an unspoken boundary. Too intimate. 

_ More intimate than the twenty odd times you let him cum in you? _She winces. Yeah, kissing is probably fine. A bad habit on her part, to overthink these things as actual demonstrations of affection.

“Say it again,” he groans, thigh pushing between her legs—Rey shamelessly grinds against it. “Say it like I own you.”

The floor drops out underneath her feet: right. _ That’s _ why she was sleeping with him. The mouth on this guy was something she’d only seen in porn. Insanity, what he’d growl in her ear while she crashed through a finely tuned orgasm. It was okay, she’d assured herself late at night, to give up control for a little while. To stop making decisions. Let someone else lead her to the edge. Ben made her forget every stupid email or bill or to-do list and replaced it with his cock. A safe place where all she had to do was listen.

She deserved this.

“Ben,” she sighs again, eyes fluttering closed when his hand slips up her throat, tensing at her veins. It’s just his name, but it sounds like the most desperate thing in the world. Some solemn oath to cherish and obey.

“Are you wearing it?” His hand slips between the waistband of her shorts, feeling around for the plug nestled in her ass. It wasn’t the first time, of course—Rey liked the fullness, the taboo. Ben seemed to appreciate it’s charms, especially when he was the one guiding it inside, opening up the muscle with his fingers first. _ All filled up, _he’d say, eyes misty with pleasure. They hadn’t actually managed to have anal sex yet, but Rey was happy to use the small toy.

When he taps the plug, a smug laugh is muffled into her shoulder: she blushes as he fiddles with the steel rim, moving it around in her slick hole. Satisfied with her work, his mouth edges her into a frenzy; soon her arms are around him, hands burrowed in his hair, legs at his waist, both of them cloaked in moonlight. Ben’s comfortable holding her aloft, pinned against the wall like a butterfly, rutting like an animal. Who knows what got into him—but it’s devastating, how reverently he defiles her. The near-muted television drones on, ignored in favor of feet stumbling to the bedroom.

The seams of her shirt hang on valiantly when he yanks at the fabric, baring skin he’s seen before. You wouldn’t know it, with the way his gaze seeks each curve anew—Rey leans back on her elbows, arching her back when he pulls off her shorts next. 

“Spread your legs,” he instructs, the clink of his belt ringing in her ears. She’s tempted to rub her thighs together—can’t explain it, but it almost makes her _ more _ wet to schedule these...affairs, anticipation often dampening her panties before he’d even touched her. Inserting the plug an hour earlier hadn’t helped—sitting on the couch, reminded in every position that something was in her ass—and only because he’d told her to.

It’s embarrassing, when she parts her knees, to show him all that power he wields over her body. Ben takes it in stride with a smug smile, bending to mouth absently at the crease of her hipbone. “Wouldn’t need to fuck you if you didn’t get so wet. Now we have to do something about it.”

“You, uh, just need to pull out,” Rey mumbles a reminder, barely making her way through the sentence when his head dips lower, breath hot on her pussy.

He snorts, spreading her open with his thumbs. The wet sound that comes next is scandalous enough to make her blush: she forgets all about the brisk safe sex speech she’d practiced in the shower when his pointed tongue finds her clit, moving in a brutal, merciless rhythm.

Something’s in the water—typically he’d warm her up. Slow, teasing licks: all of that is absent with the way he’s urgently moving now, setting up an orgasm far too quickly, a proper ravaging. Rey tries to remember if it was something she drank, or the way she parted her hair, or her tiny pajama shorts, but none of it explains his behavior, or the two fingers he pushes inside of her to curl upwards.

It’s too _ fast. _ The coiled suspense in her abdomen has her twitching, a wetness gathering in the corner of her eyes. “Ben,” she calls, trying to wrench up his head—a hand snatches her wrist, pinning it cruelly to the bed. The force with which he holds her still is shocking; the strong, capable image of herself in her mind shattered by the stark reminder that if Ben wanted to take, he _ could _.

“Ben,” she squirms readily now, aiming for just a moment’s peace; his tongue acts like a livewire, overwhelming, intense. “It’s too much—Slow _ down.” _

“Shut up,” he growls, terribly dangerous, nipping at her thigh. “Shut up and come.”

Rey doesn’t have a retort for that; she’s too busy shivering, startled into an orgasm. Her thighs clench over his head, the softness of his hair ticklish on bare skin. The spot of dampness beneath her grows wider and wider with a mix of his saliva and her own slick, dripping down the plug and onto the sheets, quickly cooling in the air. It feels—

She doesn’t have time to consider how it feels, because Ben’s heavy cock is out, parting her open. She huffs, irritated that her moment of basking in the warm light of orgasm’s been stolen, but Ben deserves to come too, she supposes. God, he’s pent up—pushing into her with purpose, tense like a bow.

“That’s good, just lay there and take it, hm?” He seems pleased when she nods, braving deeper and deeper, until there’s nowhere left to go. There’s a pause where he grinds his hips as if he’s there to stay, like he’s decided to make a permanent home inside her cunt for his cock.   
  


The pace he sets is punishing, so thunderous Rey can hardly breathe—normally she’d dig her nails into his thighs to signal a reprieve, but her wrists are trapped beside her head, helpless.

She just has to _ take _it. Like he said. All she can do is squeeze and whine and hope he finishes quick.

“Knew you’d be a good girl for me,” he looks lost and found all at once, pumping faster. “Look at you. Spreading your legs. Gonna make me come, sweetheart.”

The idea sends a shiver up her spine: still. It’s just talk. He won’t actually—

“You can’t,” she squeaks, the atmosphere of the room turning sharp. “Ben. I missed a pill—“

“God, Rey, so fucking tight, gonna fill you up.”

“_ Don’t,” _ she makes the mistake of bucking her hips: it only lets him deeper, enough that they both moan. “Ben you _ can’t, _ah, it’s not safe. Pull out if you’re gonna—“

He smiles, like she’s finally figured out some incomprehensible game they’ve been playing, as if she’s walked into the easiest, sharpest trap he’s ever set. “Then beg, Rey. Beg me to pull out if you want it so bad.”

He keeps fucking her like it’s the most effortless thing in the world—maybe it is, the way she welcomed him in her apartment and her bed with open legs. Is she stupid? Hard to tell, when he’s brushing up against a spot that makes her whimper on each stroke, popping each coherent bubble of a thought in her brain. 

“Please,” she gasps, eyebrows pinched as she searches for words among the pleasure. “Ben, you, oh, you n-need to or I’ll—“

“Oh, harder than that, sweet thing. Come on. Impress me,” he coaxes, like he’s dangling a treat, rather than a dangerous decision that’s been drilled into her head since middle school. _ Don’t miss a pill. Don’t have sex. Don’t get pregnant. _All of it is at odds with how delicious it feels to get pounded by him.

But she’s responsible, so Rey squeezes her eyes shut, concentrating all of her energy into a single task. “Uh—c-come in my mouth? On my tits, or—“

“Your mouth won’t be as tight and snug as this pretty pussy, Rey, hm?”

“No-o,” the moan that leaves her is uncontrollable, hard to pinpoint whatever’s sparking in her heart—_ do, don’t, do, don’t _ , it leaves her yanking ineffectually at her pinned wrists. “Fuck, Ben, you _ can’t _.”

“I can,” he tsks. “I can do whatever I want with you. I could knock you up. Fuck a baby in you, hm?”

“Please come in my mouth,” she hiccups, body seized with adrenaline—he might really do it, fill up her fertile parts, get her pregnant with his baby, but they _can’t_. “Please, I’ll swallow it all and suck so good I promise. I want to taste it, just don’t—“

The laugh that comes out of him only deepens her sense of urgency—there has to be something, and she’s running out of time, judging by the familiar twitch of his spine—

“M-my ass?” she pleads, all of it clicking. The plug, the way he’d frowned weeks ago when she said she wasn’t ready for _ that _; the opportunity she’d handed him tonight on a gilded platter.

Ben smiles.

“Please, fuck my ass,” her request aims for sweet, trying to make it sound appealing—the alternative too terrible to consider. A baby fucked into her womb by the man in her bed. “Come in me there, I want to feel it,” each word comes out strangled with a cry to the tune of his unceasing pace. 

“Oh? Is it nice and tight?”

Rey nods frantically, practically incoherent. “The plug—“

“Got you all ready for me so you could take a big cock, huh? Don’t look so upset, sweetheart. You want me to stay here?” Ben presses a kiss to her forehead. “Put my come in your pussy so you can keep it?”

She shakes her head, begging with her eyes—hoping it’s enough, that’s _ she’s _ enough to convince him to fuck her where nobody else has touched. Ben smiles, blessedly pulling out, sitting back on his heels to grab the tapered end of the toy. His gaze settles on her scrunched face as he wiggles it free, watching with fascination.

Just when she’s braced for the relief of having it out, Ben cruelly pushes it back inside, even as she goes frozen with silent protest. He smiles, stiff cock gleaming with her essence, _ daring _ her to say a word. _ Give me a reason, _ he quirks a brow. _ Give me a reason to come in your pussy instead. _

She doesn’t. Holding her breath, Rey tries to relax as he fucks her ass loose with the toy; even when he holds it still at the widest point, seconds ticking by as she's opened up for something larger. 

“Think you’re ready, baby?” He nudges her clit with his knuckle as the plug is pushed in her ass for a final time. “Gotta make it fit, or else.”

Or _ else _indeed: Rey sniffles, eyes wide as he removes the toy, stroking his length with lube from her nightstand, broad palm smoothing over the head. His hand is sticky when he opens her thighs again, brushing through her slit before moving lower, lower—

The initial stretch only reminds her of the painful emptiness in her cunt, how it clenches on his absence—the head of his cock takes a few tries to wedge itself in, each inch rewarded with soft praise. Surely she can do this. It’s safer—he's right. Rey can’t complain; she _ asked _him. Begged him. At least he’s being nice about it.

When she looks down, of course, it’s with a wail of despair—what felt like his entire cock and then some is a mere three inches, plenty left to stuff in.

“Hush. Keep whining and I’ll breed you instead. You’re almost there,” he murmurs, even though they absolutely aren’t. “Gonna fuck you raw here. Plug you up when I’m done so you don’t spill. Doesn't that sound nice?”

“Yeah,” she replies, dizzy, flickering in and out with each rock of his hips, repeating to herself that this is better. Safer. Everyone wins. Ben gets to fuck, and Rey doesn’t get bred full of babies. 

“So godamned good, honey. Taking it up your asshole to keep your cunt safe. Come on, tell me. Say ‘thank you for fucking my ass, Ben. I love it’.”

“Thank you,” she manages, watching as he nestles in at the root with one last burning press, some strange inevitability coming to a climax. “T-thank you for fucking my ass, Ben.”

“I love it,” he prompts, kissing her knee.

Tears burn her eyes. She’s so _ full. _ She didn’t know her body could _ feel _ like that, as if it was splitting apart at the seams, dense with cock _ . “ _I love it,” she repeats, clenching around him the same way she’d finger a bruise.

He shifts the angle, experimentally sliding out until only the head is stretching her open. “Could just jerk off with the tip inside you, couldn't I?” He mutters to himself, sinking forward until they’re meshed again. “But then again, you’d probably cry about not getting fucked proper.”

The air in the room is thick as he starts fucking in earnest, her hole sloppy with lube, each vein pumping fresh blood to her head. The stretch unending, no leverage to protest on her back. Ben’s close already: his eyes flutter, jaw tense as he watches where they’re joined, two people made into one rutting animal. 

“Please, harder,” she begs, voice ragged, terrified he’ll change his mind and she won’t be able to stop him. “I want all of it in my ass, it’ll be so deep, I’ll feel it for days, Ben—_ please please please.” _

His fingers reach her clit, rubbing frantically. “Louder, Rey. Don't you _love_ begging to get fucked up the ass, sweet girl?”

“Y-yeah,” she moans, hips bucking as he rubs the way she’d shown him at the very beginning. “Thank you for making me take it,” she squirms, squeezing around him as his hips stutter. “For—for keeping me safe—“

He grunts, slamming home, the momentum rocking the bed as his load spills: it’s _ thick, _hot ropes painting her insides, enough to make a mess when he pulls out of her used hole, a bubble of come and lube following suit as they pant in a twinned rhythm.

Every breath reminds her; she’s unbearably sore, probably swollen and red. The burn from earlier has turned into a smouldering heat, exacerbated by Ben’s fingertips rubbing slowly around the rim of her empty hole with reverence. “Maybe I should always fuck your ass,” he murmurs, coaxing more come out to drip on the bed. “You know. Much safer. You wouldn’t even have to remember that pill. Would you like that, sweetheart?”

Rey swallows, terrified of the answer.

**Author's Note:**

> Wow I wonder what she said ://///
> 
> @thevuaslog on twitter and in hell


End file.
